


Light

by whichstiel



Series: Season 14 Codas [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Almost Love Confessions, Episode: s14e2 Gods and Monsters, Gods and Monsters, M/M, Texting, episode coda, spn 14x02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 11:05:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16345526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whichstiel/pseuds/whichstiel
Summary: A coda for 14x2 Gods and Monsters.Dean texts with Cas in the Impala on the way back to the bunker.





	Light

Dean feels like hell. _And I’ve been to Hell, so I should know_ , Dean thinks and is suddenly nearly overwhelmed by the urge to burst into manic laughter. He quells the urge and climbs into the backseat of the Impala carefully. The leather and polish smells like comfort, like home. Dean can almost fool himself for a moment, as he closes his eyes and adjusts his back against the seat, that everything that happened with Michael was nothing but a bad dream. 

“You okay? You need anything? Water?”

His mom’s voice jolts him out of his brief fantasy and he opens his eyes to look at her. She’s settled into the back seat next to him; Sam and Bobby are in the front seats already. There’s a body in the trunk - one of the super werewolves, brought back for study by the team at the bunker. He wanted to tell them that wasn’t necessary - the he remembers everything that happened. But the truth is, he sees the past several weeks through a haze of pain. He struggled to surface only to be pushed down again, brutally, and further than before. His memories might be faulty. Hell, he can’t even remember if he’s himself - or if Michael’s hiding inside him like he’s some kind of human Trojan horse. 

Dean smiles at Mary. “I’m fine,” he tells her. “I…I don’t think I can keep anything down just yet.” His stomach churns like a storm-tossed sea.

“That’s fine.” She lifts her hand slowly and when he doesn’t move away, lets her fingers drift along his hairline, brushing fine hairs away from his sweat-damp skin. “You just get some rest. We’ll be back home in no time.”

Baby’s engine roars to life, and then they’re off down the road with Sam at the wheel.

Dean stares through the windshield at the gloomy sky and the long, lonely pavement stretching out before them as they pass out of the town and head out onto country roads. It’s been a long time since he’s ridden in the backseat. It’s like a private kingdom back here - one he used to share with Sammy when they were small. One he eschewed when he got older, desperate for his dad to recognize him as the nearly grown man he was.

Right now, it’s almost peaceful, like he’s secreted away from the world. Carefully, Dean leans his throbbing head back onto the seat and lets his eyes begin to drift shut.

His phone buzzes.

Dean fumbles for his phone without opening his eyes. Michael kept it charged as leverage, as a lifeline to the hunters who showed him a gateway was possible in the first place. Michael is a chess master, after all. He wouldn’t get rid of a piece on the board if he thought he could use it.

Dean lifts the phone up and opens his eyes. It takes him a minute to focus on the words.

**Cas: Mary told me you’re free of Michael**

**Cas: Are you alright?**

Dean glances at Mary. She’s watching him with a bemused smile and he waves the phone a little in his hand. “Cas,” he explains. Her brows lift in comprehension and she nods before turning away to look out the window, almost as though she’s giving him privacy.

**Cas: I was so worried.**

Dean smiles at the screen and unlocks it. 

**Dean: Hey, Cas. I’m okay.**

There’s a long pause before Castiel sends _I’m glad_. 

**Cas: Is there anything we can do? Anything we can prepare for you?**

_Yes_ , Dean thinks. _A dungeon. Enochian warded cuffs. A blade._ The stain of Michael still feels thick in his body. There’s a trick, a trap somewhere lost in the fog. He can’t see it, but he can feel it. But that’s too much to say over a text, and besides, he doesn’t want Castiel to worry.

**Dean: I’ll probably sleep for a day. Maybe be up for eating again in a while?**

**Cas: I’ll have pizza.**

**Cas: And beer.**

**Cas: Also, Maggie brought back ice cream bars that I understand are quite good. You might like to try one.**

**Cas: Salted caramel chocolate.**

**Dean: Thanks, Cas.**

Dean’s astonished to find he’s still smiling. It feels like it’s been months. Months since he’s done anything but scream against Michael’s wall of fire.

**Dean: How are things at the bunker?**

**Cas: We are well. Both teams are on the hunt. Maggie is teaching me to cook since I’ve been watching over Jack.**

**Cas: Cooking is similar to spellwork, I think. Precision and the proper ingredients lead to a result.**

**Dean: A RESULT?**

**Dean: Okay, if that’s your attitude about cooking, Maggie’s doing it wrong. I’ll teach you the ART of cooking over an open flame when I get back.**

**Cas: It’s an art form?**

**Dean: Damn right.**

**Cas: :)**

**Dean: And how’s Jack?**

There’s a long pause before Castiel replies.

**Cas: He’s fine.**

**Cas: He continues to struggle over the loss of his powers.**

**Dean: Still not juiced up, huh?**

**Cas: No.**

**Dean: Well, don’t worry. The kid’s young. He’ll manage.**

**Cas: Of course.**

Dean narrows his eyes. There’s an obvious deflection happening. He can almost feel Castiel’s careful words like a palpable shield pushing out from his phone. He’ll get a better idea of where Jack stands when he can see everyone face to face.

**Dean: I can’t think of a better teacher than you. You’re doing good, Cas. Keep it up.**

**Cas: Thank you, Dean.**

**Dean: How about you? You doing okay?**

Again, Castiel sends a delayed reply. Dots appear and disappear before he says, _**I’m fine.**_

Well. That’s clearly bullshit. Dean’s fingers hover over his keypad. 

**Dean: You got this.**

**Dean: I’ll be home soon.**

He hesitates for a moment, thinking about what to write next. He’s exhausted. Beaten down and worn thin like overworked metal. He wants to sleep for days; he’s afraid to close his eyes for too long. He craves touch, how it can anchor him to the world. Dean thinks the first thing he’ll do when he gets back is embrace Castiel. 

**Dean: I missed you.**

**Dean: Can’t wait to see you.**

_I love you_ , Dean thinks. _I love you, too_.

Baby’s headlights carve a horn of light down the road and in the back seat, Dean’s phone glows with the steady exchange of messages. Light, under Michael’s thumb, was a curse. Tonight it’s an anchor, leading him home.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
